Kid
by vieiraa3
Summary: A look at Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne circa Season 2 when they lived together in Bruce's pursuit of understanding how the other side lives. SPOILER - Also: Why did Selina Kyle realize that the doppelganger was not the real Bruce Wayne when she saw the scars on his abdomen - She must have seen it before, right?


**KID**

 **A/N:** Why did Selina Kyle realize that the doppelganger was not the real Bruce Wayne when she saw the scars on his abdomen? She must have seen it before, right?

Selina Kyle huffed loudly around a mouthful of cheeseburger. Yes, Bruce had acquiesced to her demands and allowed the remains of their bounty to be claimed as her "half". Yes, he had gone back for the bag in the first place when she had told him to leave it. Even so, Selina was enjoying her display of dissatisfaction – watching the kid squirm as he desperately tried to make it up to her and rectify her false sour mood.

Perhaps 'kid' did not quite describe the boy in front of her anymore. Maybe 'squirm' did not quite describe what he did anymore. These were thoughts that Selina had toyed with more and more regularly. The words she had used to define Bruce Wayne were now in question. The way they interacted was ever-changing – the looks exchanged, the brushed fingers, the shared meals, the earned trust.

The past few weeks that Selina Kyle and Bruce Wayne had spent together, planning heists, failing heists, splitting their bounties, sharing burgers, living together – it had been… nice. It had changed both of the teens, in different ways as well as in similar ways. They were closer and yet further apart. As young people they were finding more in common and more ways in which their differences harmonized, narrowing what used to be what Selina had once thought of as a cavernous gap between them. As a boy and girl, however… well, those differences seemed to become more and more apparent every day.

"Selina," Bruce tried again, a small carefree smile playing on the edge of his mouth. He was still riding the adrenaline wave generated from their getaway on the roof just hours before. His once stiff posture was now relaxed, his shoulders sloping, his brow uncreased

Selina liked Bruce best like this. Unguarded, relaxed. She would never say that to him, of course. After all, she nearly equally liked him best when he squirmed, stiff and uncomfortable under the assault of her teasing. Truth be told, though, Selina was growing increasingly aware of how much Bruce had grown over the time they had known each other and his discomfort with trivial things – threats of kisses, the criminal underbelly of Gotham, and even Selina in general – was waning with experience and exposure.

Of course, Selina had grown as well. Curves were developing, which attracted the attention of more and more of the male species as of late, much to both her and Bruce's chagrin. Although it possibly irked Bruce just slightly more than it irked Selina herself. Just another reminder of how they were slowly differing in other, more physical ways. She didn't like the thought. Not when they had just so recently begun to narrow the gap between them. Not when Selina was just beginning to really think of Bruce as 'family', spoiled rich kid or not.

"What?" Selina asked brusquely, tearing off a small piece of the burger's patty and offering it to the stray tabby cat that wandered close enough to accept the delicious tidbit.

"You're not still mad, are you? You got to keep your half," Bruce argued.

There it was again, that half-smile. More of a smirk, really. And again there was that irritating and terrifying quickening of her heart rate when she saw that smile.

Selina grunted in response which by now Bruce recognized to mean she wasn't holding a grudge against him over whatever transgression he had made this time around.

"We make a pretty good team, right?" Bruce continued, polishing off his cheeseburger and providing greasy fingers to the brave stray still circling the couches on which the pair of teens reclined.

"You still have a lot to learn, kid," Selina said as she crumpled up the wrapper and tossed it at the boy. He caught it with ease, scowling gently at the term of endearment she still used for him.

"I'm not a kid anymore," Bruce insisted for the umpteenth time.

Selina never got tired of this game: she would call him 'kid', he would get grumpy about it, she would taunt him further, and once Bruce turned thoroughly pink in discomfort and frustration Selina would dissolve into a puddle of laughter and some sort of food or pillow fight would ensue.

"Sure. _Kid_ ," Selina goaded, smirking as Bruce tightened his jaw visibly. She stood up, shedding her boots in preparation for sleep. May as well get comfortable if she was going to settle in for some late afternoon Bruce-taunting.

All games were sidelined, however, at the sharp pain that shot up Selina's arm as she worked the first boot off.

"What's wrong?" Bruce asked.

"My arm…," Selina grit out, peeling away her leather jacket and sweater to reveal a quickly yellowing bruise on her right bicep. "Must've been when I hit that post."

Bruce got up to kneel beside her, inspecting the coloured flesh with concern – all signs of irritation washed away for the moment. As his dark head dipped and he poked at the bruise experimentally, earning a hiss from Selina and a mumbled apology from Bruce, Selina silently admitted that, no, Bruce Wayne the rich kid was no longer really a 'kid'. His facial features had become harder, sharper as of late. The more time they spent together, day in and day out, Selina noticed the subtle differences. His eyes appeared to become softer and darker, his jaw broader and stronger, his shoulders wider and sturdier. More than anything, though, it was his height – Bruce must have shot up at least half a foot since she last bothered to compare their eye levels. Even kneeling, his head seemed to be almost level with Selina's as she sat deep within the cushions of the old couch when once upon a time, now seemingly so long ago, she had stood almost a full head above him.

"Does it hurt?" Bruce asked.

"Well when you jab at it like that, yeah," Selina said, eyes wide and sarcastic as she yanked her arm back and into her sleeves.

"Even with Gilzean, I do not think my skin has ever turned the same colours that yours does when you bruise," Bruce continued to muse, ignoring her quip.

"Speaking of bruises, how is the one on your ribs from last week?" Selina asked, making a face and nodding at the offending side of the boy beside her to distract him from his newest weird training – bruises, cuts, and how they all looked a little different. She gave up on counting the number of times she had to talk him out of purposely cutting or bruising himself for the sake of 'understanding' or 'improvement'. "You're not favouring that side as much anymore, if your jump earlier today says anything."

Bruce grinned widely, full of pride and earning a smirk in response from Selina. Jumping had not been his forte form the beginning, but he was quickly catching up to Selina's years of experience on the rooftops of Gotham city.

In response to the question, Bruce pulled up his shirt hastily, displaying the faint purple mark on his ribs and touching it lightly. "Barely feel it anymore, to be quite honest."

When he looked up at her again, his smile faltered. It was a mild observation, something that Selina noted from the corner of her eye. She pulled her eyes up sharply, making eye contact as Bruce's already dark and soft gaze seemed to only darken and soften further.

Things like this – the long silences, the staring, the warm skin, the heady rush of nervousness and anxiousness – were all the reasons why Selina was beginning to resent the feeling that being a boy and being a girl was either going to make them closer or make them tear apart. Not all of it _felt_ bad. Some of it felt good, in a weird way, but still good. And that was what was scary. That was what made her skittish as she yanked her gaze away and kicked off her second boot right into Bruce's lap.

He caught the shoe quickly, letting his shirt fall back. Chancing a glance, Selina noted how red his face had gotten - probably just as red as hers felt. She decided she would take it as a win for the Bruce-taunting game, but she couldn't bring herself to fall into her usual fit of giggles.

"Well, I'm beat," Selina said suddenly, tugging up the blanket she was sitting on and flopping onto her side to turn her back to Bruce. "'Night, kid."

This time Bruce did not acknowledge the nickname with anything more than a mumbled return of the sentiment and the rustling sound of him returning to his own couch and blankets beside her. There was no need to acknowledge it. Not anymore. In just the few seconds that passed, in the fleeting feelings they had both let flutter into existence at that moment, they both acknowledged that 'kid' was a term that no longer applied to either of them.


End file.
